Forsythe gently gripped my face and lifted it. “Lucille.” I cried into his hands. “Lucille, look at me.”
I struggled to open my eyes, my vision clouded by my tears as I looked at him.
“Lucille.”
I tried to shake my head, but he refused to let me go. “Why did you save me? I’m not worth saving.”
“You are wortheverything.”
My tears mixed with the cold rain and poured down my face and onto his hands. “No,” I breathed. “I’m not. It doesn’t matter how hard I try, how much I drink or smoke, nothing will ever fill this endless hole inside of me! I’mbroken, Forsythe, and no matter how much you try, you can’t fix me.”
“I don’t want to fix you, because that means there’s something wrong with you. But you, Lucille, are anything but broken. And there’snothingwrong with you.”
My stomach twisted at his words. “Nothing wrong with me? Look at me! I’m damaged beyond repair!”
“No, you’re not damaged. You’re healing. You’ve endured so much and survived a traumatic event that took your daddy and the happiness you once had. What you’ve lived through takes more strength than any of us here have, and to face it, knowing there’s an easier way out, is something to be proud of. It’s something even I struggle to do. I know I may look strong, but my heart is nothing compared to yours, Lucille.
“Stop.”
“No. It’s time you heard the truth and stopped listening to those negative voices in your head, feeding you nothing but lies and venom. You are more worthy than you can ever imagine. You’re beautiful and wild and unafraid to be yourself. You care so much for others, even if it means putting yourself last, and you ask for nothing. I know you think you’re broken because of your mental health, but feeling things—good or bad—doesn’t mean you’re broken. And it doesn't make you any less worthy of living. Youdeserveto live, Lucille. You deserve to wake up every day and experience a life filled with both the good and bad, just as we are all meant to.
I wiped my eyes. “If I’m meant to do it, then why is it so hard? Why is choosing to exist so fucking hard?”
Forsythe smirked. “You’re right. Waking up and making that choice every day isn’t always easy. It is hard, but that’s whatliving is. It’s riding those highs and drowning in the lows, choosing to push through no matter what fate throws at you.” He stopped. “I know I said it was selfish, and I had no right, but Lucille…please,” he begged. “Please, don’t run. I don’t want you to forget your past or hide your pain…I’m asking you to share it with me. I want to help you heal. I’ll ride those highs and wade through the depths of your lows, holding your hand every second of the way. I just want to live this life with you. I want to stand by your side and remind you of every reason to keep on living and fill this place with so many good memories, you no longer dwell on the bad ones.”
“Why?” I cried. “Why do you want me?”
“Because, ten years ago, on a late-night walk, I ran into a fiery redhead who was sneaking a cigarette out by the front gate.” He smiled. “At first, I was pissed to find her out past curfew, breaking more rules and acting like a rebellious teen even though she was in her twenty’s. But when I tried to talk to her, she gave me a smile, raised her middle finger, and told me to fuck off.”
I covered my mouth. “No I didn’t!”
“Yes.” He laughed. “You did. And it was then I realized I was head over heels for you.” He carefully tucked my soaking wet hair behind my ears and held my face close. “And the woman you are, the woman I see before me, who has survived all this pain and carried it alone for so long, deserves to be loved.Youdeserve to be loved, Lucille. I just hope that one day I can be worthy of your love. Because you are worth everything. And that day in the barn? I didn’t save you.Yousavedme.”
“How,” I whispered, nearly speechless. “I’m a fucking mess.”
Forsythe smiled. “I told you.” He pulled me close and pressed his lips against mine. “You might be a mess, but you’re my mess. And I like getting my hands dirty.”
I kissed him back, crying as he held me close. And in that moment, I knew the truth of how I felt. “I’m done running,” I breathed into him. He stopped and looked at me with my face in his hands.
“Lucille—”
“I’m done running, Forsythe. Because the only thing worth running to is staring back at me.” He pressed his forehead against mine and cried as he held me. “I know it won’t be easy, and there will be days where I struggle just to get out of bed, but I need you to be patient with me.” He kissed my forehead. “And if I do try to run, I want you to chase after me. I don’t care how fast I run or how far I go, never let me go, Forsythe.”
“I’ll never let you, Lucille.”
I completely melted into him, and for the first time in almost a decade, I felt lighter. There were no more secrets, no more lies, and no more ghosts. Just a chance to live my life the way my dad always wanted.
Three years later…
“Lucille! Over here, baby!”I ran to my mother’s side as she helped Boone down the ramp. He was using a cane and taking slow, careful steps. “Ahh! Look at my baby boy!” My mother shouted at the top of her lungs.
Boone rolled his eyes and smiled. “Jeez, Mom, knock it off! You’re embarrassing me!”
She tsked as he took another steady step. “Oh hush! I will be as loud and embarrassing as I want! This is a day to celebrate!” She looked over at me. “And we’reallhere to witness it.”
Forsythe joined me and wrapped his arm around my waist. “That’s right, Ms. Nellie. One big happy family.”
I looked up at him and smiled. “There you are.”
